Holiday Music

(NOTE: MUTE PLAYLIST TO HEAR STING!)

I'm missing my holiday tunes. Our stereo is at the lake house for the renters and I've only my iPod and computer to feed my need. Music provides the backdrop of my life so Christmas without stirring Celtic tunes or Michael McDonald's Christmas music or James Taylor's Christmas music or my favorite STING's Christmas music floating on high I feel as though I'm lacking a critical bit of my being.

Because the family never, ever think to get me music for the holidays I always rush out and buy it myself. Sometimes, if I can wait, I'll wrap it up to me from them and put a little "To From" on it to open on Christmas morning. "Thanks, guys! I've been wanting this!" They grin, knowing of my obsession. I simply could not wait for Sting's "If On a Winter's Night" to be released. As Sting says, this isn't Christmas music but winter music. I, too, love winter and this is the perfect music for chilly nights with fireplaces glowing, snapping logs and red embers, hot toddies within reach. Please enjoy this beautifully crafted video and the beauty of Sting's music.

...and now a word from our sponsor...

The Police Synchronicity Tour 1985

These are NOT nature shots, but they are wild! I've been looking for these photos for 6 years and FINALLY found them during our move - tucked in a basket high atop a cabinet covered in dust. Fortunately, they were in a jacket so the images were in good shape. What was I thinking?

Sting

Back in the 80's my good friend Cindy and I had the hots for The Police. Working at an ABC affiliate at the time, we decided to fashion some press badges for ourselves and see if we could get close enough to take some photos. We did, and we did! I'm sure the statute of limitations is over for fake press badge prosecution so I'm telling you the story here, today, and sharing some of the pics.

Having access to all manner of ABC stickers and logos and whatnot, and access to badge making materials we created our badges, poked holes in them and attached them to lanyards. Anyone really looking could see they were made by amateurs but in the dark of the arena we passed muster. Guards allowed us in the photographer's area. All I had was my trusty Yashica fully manual FX-2 35mm. We did a pretty good job considering we didn't know what we were doing.

Stewart Copeland

After the concert we tried to go backstage, but some stupid guard asked to see our A&M Records armband. "Cindy, do you have the armbands?" "No, Debi...YOU had the armbands!" "Um, Mr. Guard, won't our press passes do?" No. We didn't get backstage but we were happy nonetheless for it was a great adventure!!! De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da...that's all I want to say to you!!!

Virginia Sweetspire in Autumn's blush

Autumn brings such joy. Yes, the trees and shrubs are going to sleep for the winter, but while they slumber above their roots are stretching and growing beneath the surface, ensuring a surge of physical growth next year. This transition is necessary for most plants though there are some who do not require it depending upon the variety and zone. I'm not talking about annuals, of course and this isn't really about Botany anyway. For most plants downtime is necessary for future growth.

This truism translates well into the human existence. Quiet, reflective time is necessary for our bodies and souls. An artist cannot create their art without allowing time to stop and soak up Life experiences. A writer cannot write without observing and experiencing the ebb and flow of our world. To do these things one must make time to sit and look or read, smell, hear and taste. A song writer and musician eventually must face that blank page, which may come after months or years of touring. That is the time one creates, and is the time most fear, but it indeed comes at a time of stillness. This is probably why Sting won't stop touring as he's admitted a fear of that blank page, but I digress. Time of reflection, observation, meditation, reading, listening, tasting, hearing and really seeing is mandatory for our inner expansion and awareness.

It is in those quiet moments that our ideas and thoughts begin to stretch and grow beneath the surface so when the spring of our creativity comes these ideas are ready to burst forth into the world much like the flowers we so adore.

Not Sting's Boat House

Old boat house on Elk River

Just wanted to give you a little break from the sweetgums. Same afternoon hour in time but of a hickory tree blazing above an old boat house. There are boat houses all along our river, its many tributaries and the lake. Some are nice and new while the rest hold a charm all their own. This one clearly has seen better days, but its rustic character compliments the riverbank and leaves, like a nubby weave in a tapestry.

Why "Not Sting's Boat House?" Hm. It's no secret that I'm a huge Sting fan. Well, Sting's palatial estate in Wiltshire, England has a little lake upon which sits a boat house fitted with a little wood burning stove, some throw rugs to keep his feet warm, and a simple wooden table and chair nestled beside a window overlooking the lake. It is in this retreat that Sting wrote some of my favorite songs, such as "I Was Brought to my Senses." Naturally, Sting's boat house is larger and more comfy and not quite as rustic at the one above as he can well afford to keep his boat house in good repair. The one pictured above is NOT Sting's boat house, obviously.

However, observing the local, old boat houses that day I thought of Sting and just how nice it must be to have a retreat like that. Perched atop the water, listening to waves lapping the pilings, various water birds making their calls, geese calling overhead, winds gently rustling your paper, I could get used to having a little boat house of my own within which to create, or simply to meditate and journal. When I saw this little boat house I thought of Sting sitting in his and was then hoping he would soon be brought to HIS senses and start writing some new tunes.

I'm STILL WAITING, Sting.

Ahem.

Opportunity

"Life happens when you're busy making other plans."

My blog of late has become more a journal of thoughts and ponderings than initially envisioned. I'm thinking this shows that blogs are simply our lives personified in pixels and prose, ebbing and flowing and following along nicely thank you very much. It's no secret that I've envied those who can stay on track, on topic, while my "sacred space" seems to be so random. Obviously, my haphazard thoughts here have been mirroring the disquiet within my soul, hence my search for "self."

It's easy for a parent to recognize their child's upcoming growth spurt. Their little bodies seem to plateau, then "thicken" in preparation for bone and sinew to gain an inch or more in seemingly rapid fashion. My unrest and pondering here ad nauseum (my apologies) has been my own "thickening" in preparation for the next burst of growth. Thank you all for your patience.

The burst may be imminent. An opportunity has unexpectedly been laid at my feet for consideration. So far, it feels good and there's even a tickling of excitement deep within. I'll be off for a bit as I explore it in depth, wear it a bit and see if it "fits."

Sting says "Life rewards the risk takers." This opportunity may not be much of a "risk" as defined by Sting, but I just wanted to end with his words as he's my touchstone, my talisman. Time to set sail.

Self

The year 2003 began for me a time of personal epiphanies as I rediscovered passions required for truly Living my life. Years of marriage and raising a child had sort of sucked the "me" out of me. I love my family, but it became clear that the person my husband married had disappeared under the daily slog of errands, school stuff, kid stuff, housework, yard work, work work and everything in between. I became someone else entirely. Frankly, I wasn't real crazy about myself and was inwardly sort of miserable. I couldn't put my finger on it, really. Good marriage, living on a lake, great daughters, good dog, trusty Subaru, great family and in-laws. All that was missing was the picket fence. But there was something missing in my life.

One day the summer of 2003 I read something on-line about a new CD coming out by an artist I had loved long ago. Oh, wow....I remember that guy. His music always spoke to me. The moment it hit the shelves my money hit the counter and I ran to my trusty Subaru to give it a listen. It's damned hard to get all that cellophane and stickers and whatnot off a new CD - have you noticed? Good grief. My hands were shaking from effort and excitement. Finally, the hermetically sealed CD was free from encumbrances and excitedly popped into the CD player, which I wasn't sure even worked since I'd never used it.

Slowly and exquisitely a complex, deep, luscious sound began to roll out of the speakers. I swear it swam down my ears and into my bloodstream and my heart began to pound with the beat. Sting's clear, distinctive voice bathed my soul like a soft, warm bath. "Inside the wounded hide their scars...." Oh, my God, I'm awake now. It's hard to describe, but it was as if every cell in my body began to vibrate with an intensity not felt in over a decade. Music, the beat, the complexity, the chords, the harmonies, the lyrics, the meaning, the sheer artistic nature of the beast drew me in like a lover's hug.

...all the days of my life I will walk with you,

...all the days of my life I will talk with you,

...all the days of my life I will share with you,

...all the days of my life I will bear with you...

I knew then without a doubt that music had been absent. Since marriage, husband and child the only piped in sounds came from Barney, Winnie the Pooh, Disney, CNN, History Channel and all manner of television channels. No music. Not my music. No symphonies, no rock & roll, no R&B, nothing....no Sting.

I grew up with the Beatles music constantly surrounding me. Beatles, Hendrix, James Taylor (the ORIGINAL JT, thank you very much), Cream, Clapton, The Who, etc., etc., (I'm dating myself but oh well) They were the soundtrack of my life. Music was my Oz, my escape, my passion. The first time I heard The Beatles on the radio I was like Dorothy stepping outside her black and white world into a world of color and life and music and singing. This CD - Sacred Love - shook my shoulders and said "WAKE UP!" And I did! That was a defining moment - October 2003 - the parking lot of Best Buy with Sting's Sacred Love CD. From that point on I began buying music and more music and more music. I had a lot of catching up to do.

Today, my CD cabinet is filled and my iPod is my best friend. Music brought me back out into the light. I dance now - all by myself, but dance I do. And I sing - all by myself in the car with the music blaring - and I bob my head to the beat and enjoy every road trip. The reintroduction of music into my daily life reawakened other passions - photography, art, learning, writing, nature, God, everything. Everything. My family is blithely amused, but I think they enjoy me much more now. My artistic self has been released due to exposure to music generated by all manner of artists. Life is beautiful and I am "me" again.

Why did I allow my life to become mundane? True, I had obligations like everyone else but I'd forgotten to include ME in the day-to-day. Since the day of reawakening I learned that I have to exercise my passions daily just like I exercise my body. The discovery for me was that yes, I can live without music, photography, art, culture, writing, hiking, birdwatching and all my personal passions....but why? Without music I'm a shadow, a wraith, some invisible being that simply and quietly floats from place to place in grim fashion. With music, I'm a bopping, singing, dancing, artistic wild child. I much prefer the latter me.

Anyway, thanks Sting for helping me remember who I am, who I've always been.

Inside

"Inside my head's a box of stars I never dared to open."

Sting

I grew up knowing in my heart that I was not creative. Shy, submissive, quiet, wallflower - that was me. Creative people got attention and I was uncomfortable with attention. Fast Forward to Today. As much as I enjoyed my childhood, I am really enjoying my age. No, not the new aches and pains but the freedom from caring what people think and a joyful sense of Self as I embrace my creative side. The sense of fear has been replaced by a sense of utter joy. Writing, photography, graphic arts, blogging, gardening, cooking, parenting...breathing.

It didn't happen overnight nor did it occur in a vacuum. I had a lot of help. Key were my parents who loved me and launched me with all the resources they had at the time. My father taught me to appreciate the wilds of nature while through my mother's eyes and ears I became aware of the smallest flower, a songbird's heartbeat and the sound of cicadas. They're still here for me. Throughout my journey of growth teachers and bosses granted me opportunities and encouraged me to create. Today, my friends give me wings and help me find my true path, my husband is my cheerleader and main support, and my daughter pushes me to try new things. Music releases my inhibitions and certain artists speak to my very soul. Sting, Chris Botti, Dominic Miller - whose works you hear on my blog - are keystone artists in my life. Life is good and I am creative.

"Outside the stars are turning."

Thanks, Sting.